The Snowball Effect
by VampireNaomi
Summary: Germany, Italy, Prussia and Romano's mountain vacation threatens to be ruined because of petty arguments. Prumano and GerIta.
1. Chapter 1

This is a story that I started writing for the HetaChristmas Advent Lightning Challenge at Livejournal. However, I couldn't finish it in time, which is why it's being posted at such a late date. The fic was requested by **gloomy_ninja** and the prompt was arguments.

**THE SNOWBALL EFFECT**

**Chapter 1**

Germany let out a sigh of relief as he turned off the car's engine, leaned back on his seat and closed his eyes. This must have been one of the most stressful car rides he had ever experienced. He was surprised he was still sane – barely.

"Finally! I've had enough of you lot for the rest of my life, dammit!" Romano snarled and shoved open the door at the back, storming out.

"It wasn't so bad. We all had fun! Didn't we, Germany?" Italy asked by his side and grabbed his arm.

"I have a headache," Germany muttered.

Italy frowned at him in worry. "Then why didn't you say anything? Any of us could have taken the wheel so that you could have rested a bit!"

"There isn't a single person in this car other than myself that I trust to drive," Germany replied.

There was a dismissive snort from the backseat. "Pfft, West! Don't tell me you still haven't forgiven me for that one car I trashed. It wasn't my fault that the other people on the road couldn't adapt to my awesome driving!"

"That car was –"

"The fuck are you people just sitting in the car for? I'm freezing here, so get out and open the door for me!"

As much as Romano's yelling got on his very tired nerves, Germany decided to follow the order. He wanted nothing more than to get out of the car, unlock the door of the mountain lodge they had rented, carry their luggage inside and have a cup of hot coffee.

He stepped out of the car and felt his terrible mood improve somewhat when he saw the view that greeted him. The lodge stood up in the mountains, some five kilometres away from the closest village. It was built of dark timber that made it stand out against the whiteness around them. Piles of snow stood everywhere, and more was gently flowing down and quickly covering their car.

And most importantly, it was quiet. After the horrible car ride that had included Italy and Prussia singing along to all the songs on the radio, Italy crying when he got hungry or needed a bathroom break and Prussia and Romano fighting (or making out, Germany couldn't really tell with those two) in the backseat, the silence of the mountains was like balsam to his stressed mind. The only reason he hadn't turned the radio off hours ago was that the weather forecast was predicting a snowstorm for that evening, and he had wanted to stay updated on that.

"Please open the door," he said to Prussia and tossed him the keys as he walked to open the trunk. "And could someone –" he started, taking out the first bag, but that was when he noticed that all the others had stormed inside and left him to take care of the luggage alone.

Germany frowned in irritation at their inconsiderate behaviour, but he supposed that was to be expected. He was always the one who had to look after the others and do all the work. He had just been hoping that maybe that would change now that they were on vacation together.

This trip had been Italy's idea. He had decided that it would be fun if the four of them did something together since they had been working so hard. Prussia had instantly agreed and suggested that they should rent a cottage in the mountains and spend a few days doing awesome things in the snow. Germany had had his doubts about that and whether spending even a minute with the other three in such a distant location would help him relax or just cause him more stress. In the end, however, he had decided to give it a try. He suspected even Romano liked the idea, even if he had spent a disproportionate amount of time complaining about being dragged into it.

He carried the bags inside and put them down in the small entrance hall. One look into the living room showed him that Prussia had already claimed the couch as his and was lounging on it, his legs dangling over the armrest.

"Take off your shoes so that you don't get water everywhere. This place isn't ours, so we shouldn't break anything," Germany said.

"I'm just stretching my awesome legs for a while. I'm all cramped from sitting in the car for so long. Your driving was super slow, West. We could have easily made it here at least an hour and a half sooner."

"It's important to be careful on the road when it's snowing. That why I didn't let any of you drive," Germany said. He didn't know which of the three would have been the worst choice, but he was sure that their mountain vacation would have turned into a trip to the garage, police station and possibly the hospital if he had let any of them have the wheel.

"But what if we hadn't made it here before the snowstorm because of you? Huh, did you think of that?"

"I had everything planned," Germany said. "Where did Italy and Romano go?"

"Check the kitchen."

Germany did just that and poked his head inside long enough to see both Italies doing a careful inventory of the appliances and utensils in the cupboards. There would no doubt be something being cooked soon, and after the long car trip, Germany could only welcome it.

But first he needed a cup of coffee. He took the bag with all of their groceries and started digging through it to find the pack of coffee beans. He couldn't find it anywhere amongst the carefully organized bottles and bags, but that didn't surprise him. He had asked Prussia to pack the coffee, so it could be anywhere.

"Where did you put the coffee?" he asked as he returned to the living room.

Prussia – who still hadn't taken off his shoes which had now created a puddle on the floor – looked up at his voice.

"The what?"

"The coffee."

Germany already dreaded the answer. That non-chalant tone could mean only one thing.

"Oh! Right, the coffee! Sorry, I think I left it on the kitchen counter at home."

Germany counted to ten before he spoke. "That was the only thing I asked you to pack. How could you forget it?"

"Something must have distracted me. But if it makes you feel any better, I forgot my DS, too."

Germany gritted his teeth so that he wouldn't say something that he would regret later. Maybe he should have seen his coming. Maybe it was his fault. He shouldn't have left any of the organizational tasks to Prussia when he knew how hopeless he was at them these days.

He thought wistfully back to the times when Prussia had been able to recite long lists of artillery, horses, men and gunpowder by heart and had known where each of them was positioned and who was in charge of them. He had been so efficient. Germany had looked up to him and wanted to be just like that.

He returned to the kitchen and started putting the groceries into the cupboards. Italy was already boiling water, so Germany supposed they'd be having pasta soon.

"What about the coffee?" Romano asked and took a look into the grocery bag.

"Prussia forgot it."

"What?"

Germany was about to reply, but when he turned around, he saw that Romano had already marched out. He didn't have to guess where he had gone, so he braced himself for the yelling that soon shook the house.

"What the fuck, bastard? How can you forget the coffee when your stupid brother asked you to pack it at least five times?"

"It wasn't that many –"

"I was there! I heard it! Even if it was your crap coffee, you know I need it in the morning, dammit!"

"If it was that important, why didn't you pack it yourself?"

"Because you're the biggest and laziest loser I've ever met and did nothing to help, so I was busy packing everything else!"

Italy began to let out worried sounds. "Oh, no, they're fighting again," he muttered sadly, clutching the lid of a pan in his hands.

"Prussia was asking for it."

"But it was just coffee! We can go down to the village and buy some if it's that important to you, can't we?"

Germany knew they could. That wasn't the problem. The problem was that his brother was irresponsible and didn't care that he caused so much trouble to everyone. It wasn't just coffee. It was his entire attitude to life, and right now Germany didn't know how he had been able to tolerate it this long. He was suddenly reminded of all the little inconveniences that Prussia had caused lately.

"I'll go and see if the bedrooms are in order," he said, knowing that he needed something productive to do or he'd lose his temper. The last thing he wanted was to start a fight that would ruin the weekend for everyone. He was sure he'd feel better once he had carefully organized his clothes into the closet and made sure that the bathroom was clean.

* * *

Prussia frowned to himself as he leaned back on the couch and tried to come up with a way to make it up to Romano. Or rather, he already knew what he could do to him that night to make improve his mood, but he didn't want to wait that long. They were going to have dinner and do something fun afterwards, and he didn't want Romano be sulking all through it.

He should learn how to relax, he mused.

Just then, he heard the sound of someone coming down from upstairs. Since both halves of Italy were busy in the kitchen, it could only be his brother.

"Prussia," Germany said, and his tone was enough to tell Prussia that an order was coming.

"Yeah?" he asked and sat up.

"Could you go out and get some wood for the fireplace?"

"Sure!"

That was actually a fantastic idea. He'd light a fire, and by the time they had had dinner, it would be pleasantly warm and nice in the living room. He'd get a blanket from upstairs and make Romano hot chocolate or something, and then they'd just cuddle awesomely in the glow of the fire. He'd forget all about that stupid coffee in no time!

It was a really good thing he hadn't taken his shoes off yet, so he didn't have to waste any time before running outside to the small shed where the firewood was. He collected an armful of logs and brought them back inside, dumping them unceremoniously on the floor by the fireplace.

"What?" he asked when he noticed Germany's unhappy expression. "I did what you said!"

"Can't you see what a mess you made on the floor?"

Prussia turned to look behind him. Sure, there was snow and a bit of saw dust on the carpet because one of the logs had slipped from his hold on the way.

"It's nothing. The water will dry, and I can vacuum the carpet later if it's bugging you that much," he said with a shrug.

"But you could have avoided all that if you had taken your shoes off before you came inside."

Sheesh, it wasn't just Romano who needed to learn how to relax. Germany was always so uptight that Prussia suspected he had something nasty permanently stuck up his ass, but this was ridiculous even for him. Especially now that they were supposed to be resting and enjoying their awesome weekend in the mountains.

"Fine, I'll take off the fucking shoes if it's so important to you," he muttered and started doing just that. Out of spite, he tossed the shoes aside, just to see what Germany would say.

Germany didn't say anything. He frowned and spent a moment staring at the shoes before he went to pick them up and take them to the shoes closet by the door.

"Tight-ass," Prussia muttered and rolled his eyes before returning his attention to the logs that would soon give them some awesome, romantic warmth.

He realised that he didn't have any matches and that he couldn't find them anywhere near the fireplace. There were probably some in the kitchen, he figured as he got up from his knees.

He stopped at the door and just watched the scene inside for a moment. Italy was stirring something on the stove while Romano was busy cutting vegetables into tiny slices. Even at their best, Prussia's cooking skills had never developed beyond throwing potatoes and meat into a pot and hoping that heating them turned them into something edible. Nowadays he didn't bother with anything more complicated than putting a pizza in the microwave.

"What the hell are you looking at?" Romano grumbled.

"I'm watching you two be all cute and domestic."

"Well, get lost."

"I'm getting hungry!" And with that, Prussia stepped into the kitchen and snatched a slice of paprika from under Romano's knife.

"Did I say you could do that?"

"It's just one piece!"

"I'm not working my ass off here so that you can eat everything! Wait until dinner!"

"Aww, come on! I'm starving! Feed me!"

Sadly, Romano didn't look one bit amused. If Prussia kept this up, Romano would probably not be in the mood to put anything in his mouth even that night, so he decided to perform a tactical retreat and wait for a better opportunity. Romano's mood would improve after he had got something to eat.

"So, what are you two cooking?" he asked and moved to take a look over Italy's shoulder.

"Just a little bit of pasta. Nothing special now that we're all a little tired," Italy replied. "Do you want to taste the sauce?"

"Sure!"

Romano stopped cutting vegetables and turned to glare at them just as Prussia was lifting the spoon into his mouth.

"Don't give him anything! He's old enough to wait until we're eating! Especially since we're having dinner at the bastards' illegally early hour!" he snapped.

"But Romano! It's just a little sauce!"

"That's his punishment for forgetting the coffee!"

Italy looked like he was ready to start crying. "Please don't talk about the coffee anymore! Let's all be nice to each other and eat well and do something fun! Let's not fight!"

As far as Prussia was concerned, the only reason there was such a tense atmosphere in the lodge was that Germany was a tight-ass who kept nagging about the stupidest things and Romano... Well, Romano was often in a bad mood, but he didn't usually get this venomous unless Prussia did something really stupid.

"Whatever," Romano said with a huff and returned to his work.

Prussia decided that things in the kitchen were a bit too moody for him, so he grabbed a pack of matches and returned to the living room to light the fire. He couldn't see Germany anywhere, so he figured he'd get to enjoy peace for at least a minute.

* * *

Romano was feeling somewhat better once they had all settled down and were eating. Filling his stomach with something delicious always helped him calm down, and by the time he was half-way through his second serving, he was beginning to think that maybe he had slightly overreacted about the coffee.

Not that he'd ever admit it. It was high time Prussia learned some sense of responsibility after over two decades of living like a little kid and letting his brother take care of everything. Romano sometimes felt like he was his babysitter rather than boyfriend. There were times when he had to ask himself why he was together with him in the first place, but then Prussia always did something to remind him of it.

Prussia knew what it was like to be considered the less important half of a country. When Romano was upset, Prussia tried to come up with solutions to his problems instead of just patting him on the head and telling him it was going to be okay. He could be a little dim-witted – when Romano really did want someone to just hold him, Prussia usually couldn't tell it right away. He had learned to appreciate that. Romano knew all too well that he had to work on expressing his emotions in ways that didn't involve yelling and cussing out everyone within hearing distance.

"I'm full," Veneziano said with a content sigh and pushed his plate away. "Now I want to take a nap."

"Me, too! Romano, come and take a look at the awesome fire I lit up in the living room!"

"I've seen fire before," Romano said and shoved the last piece of pasta into his mouth.

"But this is special!"

"Fine, I'll take a look at your stupid fire. But at least let me finish first!"

Romano downed the rest of his juice and got up. Prussia caught his wrist and pulled him into the living room. It had grown dark outside while they had been having dinner, so the room was now illuminated by the crackling fire that made shadows dance in the corners. It was comforting to look at.

"See?" Prussia asked.

"Yeah, what about it?"

"Come on! Admit that it's great! I even put a blanket here so that we can have a nap."

There was indeed a blanket on the floor. Not just that, but several pillows on top of it revealed that Prussia had no doubt raided their bedroom in his attempt to prepare this perfect scene. He always got these silly ideas into his head.

It was kind of nice, Romano had to admit, but he couldn't just say that, especially now when Potato Bastard Jr. was within hearing distance. Plus, even after the good dinner, the knowledge that he wouldn't be having coffee the following morning was still bothering him. He couldn't forgive the bastard that easily.

"Dammit, it's cold here," Romano said and sat down on the blanket, crossing his arms on his chest.

"Yeah, that's what I'm thinking," Prussia said and snuggled up close. "So let me warm you up."

"Stay away! Your stupid brother is here!" Romano hissed and tried to keep Prussia within an arm's distance as he battled against the blush that he knew had to be spreading all over his cheeks. Hopefully the others would think it was because of the fire or because he was angry.

"So what?"

"So keep your hands away!"

Ideally, Romano would have rather seen Germany leave, preferably take the car and go down to the village so that he wouldn't be anywhere near if he and Prussia were to get comfortable before the fire – which he kind of wanted to do, he realised. But he couldn't tell Germany to do that because then he would instantly know what they were up to, and that was the last thing he wanted.

"Hey, West!" Prussia called out and glanced over his shoulder. "Get out of here! You're being a cockblock!"

"Shut up!" Romano snarled and gave Prussia a shove that sent him on his back on the floor. Face burning, he jumped to his feet and began to march away. Fuck, it was one thing for Prussia to be all stupid and embarrassing, but declaring it to the rest of the world was the last straw!

Before he could make it to the stairs, his way was blocked by Veneziano who jumped before him from the kitchen.

"Romano!" he called out. "Come on and help me with the dishes! Germany says they have to be done right away and not later."

"Why the fuck are you doing the dishes? We cooked dinner! Let the bastards do something for a change!"

"I think Germany is tired from driving so much. He's looking at me in a scary way," Veneziano whispered.

"I couldn't care less. I'm not doing any of the damn dishes!"

And with that, Romano stomped upstairs, went into his and Prussia's bedroom and slammed the door shut.

* * *

"I guess that wasn't his way of telling me that he wants me to join him up there for some awesome time," Prussia said as he came to stand at the foot of the stairs with his hands crossed behind his head.

"Why is he so angry today?" Veneziano asked. Okay, Romano was often angry, but they were on vacation now, so he should have been happy! And they had just had great dinner, and the fire in the living room was so beautiful.

Veneziano had the feeling that he was the first person who had noticed that Romano and Prussia would be a wonderful couple. He thought they balanced each other out very well. Prussia could make Romano smile a little more. Getting together with Romano had seemed to tie Prussia down a little so that he wasn't causing trouble everywhere like an empty plastic bag in the wind, without anything solid in his life to hold onto.

Germany had shaken his head at him when he had told him that he thought their brothers should get together. Romano had nearly thrown his dinner at him when he had suggested it to him. Prussia had laughed and then looked at him in a way that had made Veneziano sad. Even he hadn't taken him seriously.

But then everything had worked out anyway. Everyone had had to admit that he had been right. Sure, Romano and Prussia fought a lot, but Veneziano thought it was doing some good to the both of them to have some of their rougher edges filed off like that.

"Maybe he's still upset about the coffee," Prussia said.

"He shouldn't let little things like that get to him. I mean, I'd understand if you had forgotten the pasta, but going without coffee for one weekend isn't life-threatening."

"I guess I'll apologize one more time later tonight," Prussia said with a shrug and nodded towards the fireplace. "The cuddling spot is free in case you and West want it."

"Ooh, that's lovely!"

At that moment, Germany joined them from the kitchen and cast a disapproving look at them. He had been awfully tense ever since they had arrived. Veneziano couldn't understand what was wrong. Germany should have been relaxing, but it seemed as if he was determined to pile even more stress upon his shoulders.

"Prussia, you should help us with the dishes."

"What, are there so many that you need three people to do them?"

"It's more efficient if one person is washing, one dries them and one places them back in the cupboard."

Veneziano hummed in wonder. "I've never thought about doing dishes that way. I usually just let them soak in the sink and then do them when I have nothing better to do."

"I never do them at all," Prussia said triumphantly, like it was something to be proud of.

"Not even when you run out of clean plates?" Veneziano asked.

"Nah, a real man can use the same plate ten times in a row, no matter what kind of grime has started growing on it!"

"Wow! You're amazing!"

Germany sighed in exasperation. "Will you two help me or not? The plates here look like they're old, so we should take really good care of them. I don't think we can replace them if something happens to them."

"Sure, I'll help you! I'll get right back to it!"

Prussia drifted into the kitchen as well. They ended up sharing the work so that Germany was doing the washing, Prussia the drying and Veneziano placed the plates and pans into the cupboard on the other side of the kitchen.

For a while, they worked in silence save for Prussia's quiet humming. If he had known what song it was, Veneziano would have very much liked to join in, but he didn't want to mess up Prussia's melody, even if it kind of sucked. And then there was the fact that Germany was still looking like he was really, really angry about something, and Veneziano had the feeling that starting to sing would only make it worse.

Aww, there are so many plates, he thought gloomily. Not just the ones they had eaten from. Germany had decided that all of them needed a wash, even those that they hadn't used. Veneziano didn't understand why they were doing this, but he was sure Germany had a good reason for it. He always had reasons for everything.

The only problem was that Germany and Prussia were working at a pace that was entirely too fast for him. No matter how fast he tried to be, the plates just kept piling up. Veneziano felt like whining in frustration. This would just worsen Germany's already sour mood, and then he surely wouldn't want to cuddle in front of the fireplace. And he didn't want Germany to see how bad he was at this and be disappointed in him.

He wished Prussia weren't so fast at drying the plates, but this looked like it was one of those rare moments when he had decided to be efficient. Or maybe he just wanted this over with so that he could go and talk to Romano.

Either way, Veneziano knew he wasn't contributing as much as he should have, and he so very much wanted to! So, he decided that he would just have to step up a little. He picked up a pile of plates this time, balancing them carefully as he made his way to the other side of the kitchen.

It was when he reached the cupboard that he ran into a problem. His hands were already getting a little tired, and he was just a tad too short to comfortably place the plates on the proper shelf. Maybe he shouldn't have tried to put them all away at once, but one look over his shoulder revealed that there were already four new plates waiting.

Veneziano drew a deep breath and made up his mind. He could do this and make Germany proud of him! He began to lift the pile of plates, his tired arms shaking under the strain. For a while, he was sure he could do it, but then he felt his hold slip and –

Crash!

Veneziano let out a surprised scream as the plates came falling down and broke into tiny pieces when they hit the floor. He covered his eyes, not having the courage to look at the damage. He had heard it well enough. All the plates were probably shattered!

"Italy!"

"Eek! I'm sorry, Germany! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to do that, but it just happened!"

There was no answer, so Italy risked a peek through his fingers. Germany and Prussia had stopped their work and had turned to stare at the mess on the floor. Prussia had lifted his brows in surprise, but there was no expression visible on Germany's face. That worried Veneziano somewhat because by now, Germany should have been yelling at him and threatening him with harsh training that would whip him into shape.

"Nah, don't worry. They can just add that to our bill," Prussia said.

"I'll pay for them! I swear I will! It doesn't matter how long I have to work to get the money! I'll take any job!"

"I don't think they're that expensive, Ita-cakes."

Veneziano turned to look at Germany, hopeful that he'd be taking it as well as his brother. He was about to blurt out yet another apology, but that was when he noticed that Germany was still staring at the broken plates with that dark, expressionless look on his face.

"Germany? Veneziano asked hesitantly. "Are you mad at me?"

Germany sighed and rubbed his face. "I'm tired. I'm going to go upstairs for a bit."

Oh, no! He _was_ mad at him! Except that not in the way he usually was, so this time he had to be exceptionally mad!

He lunged himself at Germany and wrapped his arms around him. "I'm sorry, Germany! I didn't mean to break the plates! Please don't hate me!"

Germany grabbed him and shoved him away so that he could keep walking. Veneziano followed, desperate to see a sign that would show Germany wasn't really angry, that he wasn't just going to walk out on him.

"Hey, West. What's your problem? They're just some damn plates!" Prussia called out.

That actually made Germany stop. Veneziano held his breath. Maybe he had changed his mind and wasn't angry anymore.

"This vacation would run so much more smoothly if the rest of you were a little more careful and considerate. It's just small things, like not forgetting something and thinking before acting. I don't know why you all insist on causing trouble," Germany said.

"What trouble? There hasn't been any trouble!" Prussia snapped.

"I don't feel like arguing with you right now. I have a headache."

With that, Germany walked to the stairs. Veneziano watched him go and wanted to follow him so much, but he didn't dare. It broke his heart to see Germany look at him like that, with eyes full of resignation and disappointment. He wished he would have yelled at him instead.

Veneziano sighed and returned to the kitchen. The broken plates were laughing at him on the floor, and he had to blink because his eyes were suddenly burning.

"Well, this vacation is totally shitty," Prussia muttered as he joined him and gave a small kick to one of the bigger pieces.

"I'm sorry," Veneziano mumbled, and then he could no longer hold back the tears. He had been hoping so much that this would be a fun vacation for all of them and that he could get to spend some time with Germany without having to worry about anything. They had their hands full of work these days, and Germany was always busy. He missed those days when they'd have enough time to go on a walk or visit a museum or just sit on the couch and do nothing.

"Hey, it's not your fault," Prussia said. "West is being a total ass. Don't worry about him."

"But... but he wouldn't be so angry if I hadn't broken the plates!"

"Nah, I think the coffee is still bugging him. He'll forget about it soon."

Veneziano sniffled and wiped at his eyes to make the tears stop flowing, but Prussia's words weren't very comforting. He didn't want to wait for Germany to calm down. He wanted to do something to cheer him up, but he had the feeling that right now it would only anger Germany further.

He let Prussia lead him to the couch where he sat down and lifted up his knees so that he could hug them. He glanced at the crackling fireplace and the blanket and pillows before it, trying not to think about how much he had wanted to sit there with Germany and lean against him as they basked in the warmth of the fire.

"What if he doesn't like me anymore?" he asked.

"No way. He's not going to stop liking you because of a few broken plates. I mean, come on. You've done worse. If nations could get grey hair, he'd look just like me by now!"

Veneziano sighed. That didn't help at all. He knew he was the complete opposite of what Germany valued in a person. He couldn't do any of the things Germany demanded of him, like keep his paperwork organized or not come late to meetings. There were plenty of times when he felt that there was nothing he could give to Germany in their relationship.

"But why does he like me in the first place? I'm useless to him," he muttered.

Prussia turned to look at him and leaned his elbow against the backrest of the couch. "Don't be stupid. West adores you. Anyone can see that. You're just so cute," he said and stopped to run his fingers through his hair. "I mean, if Romano wasn't cuter and if it wouldn't break West's heart, I'd eat you up myself."

"Okay," Veneziano said hesitantly. Years ago, he had sometimes had the feeling that there was something more behind Prussia's affections towards him. He hadn't been sure what to think of that. Prussia was nice, but he didn't make his stomach flutter, and his voice didn't fill him with the comfortable warmth that Germany's did.

He had been afraid that one day he'd have to tell Prussia something that would hurt him. But maybe Prussia had known that all along because he had never pushed too far and had been nothing but happy when Veneziano and Germany had got together.

"No, I'm serious. West would fall apart without you. If he didn't care about you, he wouldn't have worked so hard to rebuild the relations between you after the war. And did you listen to his songs in the 50s? His people loved your country back then, and I'm sure that he did, too. He's been in love with you for decades because... well, shit, it's not me who should be telling you this. Ask West when he calms down and don't let him wriggle out of it."

Prussia chuckled and crossed his hands behind his back. "In fact, you should do something to punish him for that tantrum he just threw in the kitchen."

"But it was my fault for breaking the plates."

Veneziano brightened as a thought suddenly crossed his mind. "Maybe I can make it all better if I clean up the broken pieces and finish doing the dishes! Then he'd see that I can do it right!"

"No, no, no, Ita-cakes," Prussia said and shook his head. "That's boring."

"Then what should I do?"

Prussia pursed his lips in thought. Then he snapped his fingers, and a wide grin spread over his features.

"I know!" he exclaimed. "We're going to surprise our boyfriends and make them stop sulking. Let's go down to the village and fix the problem that started this whole mess."

"You mean –"

"Yes! We're going to buy coffee!"

"That's a great idea! Then they'll stop making those grouchy faces at us!"

"Yeah! So grab your coat because we're off!"

Veneziano didn't need to be told twice. He got dressed in record time and even managed to find his mittens without too much trouble even though he had misplaced them when he had taken them off. Prussia found a flashlight for them, and he turned it on as they stepped outside into the night.

"It's cold," Veneziano whined and tried to curl up inside his coat.

"You'll get warm when we start walking. We can't take the car because West has the keys."

Veneziano turned to look at the snowy path that led down the mountain and towards the village. He could see the lights of houses in the distance, but only barely because it was snowing more than when they had arrived.

"Maybe this isn't such a good idea after all," he said. He had the feeling that there was something important they had forgotten. And walking all the way down to the village and then back up would be like a harsh training session with Germany. What if they got lost? Or what if something attacked them in the woods and ate them? But maybe Prussia would protect him if that happened...

"Where's your fighting spirit, Ita-cakes? If we go now, we'll be back before either of those losers notice that we were ever gone. And then we'll surprise them with some awesome coffee!"

That was a nice thought. Imagining the frown on Germany's face disappear as he sipped coffee that he had prepared for him made Veneziano momentarily forget about the cold temperature.

"Okay," he agreed, all of his worries forgotten.


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks for the reviews! Here's the second and final chapter.

**THE SNOWBALL EFFECT**

**Chapter 2**

Prussia closed his eyes as the wind blew over him and Italy, making the rapidly falling snowflakes feel like needles against his skin. He hadn't realised it would be snowing this much, or that the wind would be so strong, or that they'd be marching up to their knees in snow in places where it had gathered into piles.

He wasn't worried about himself, no way. A little bit of snow could do nothing to him, and he loved the cold temperature because surviving in it just proved how strong he was. A struggle against the forces of nature, losing the feeling in his toes and having his eyes freeze shut when he closed them against the wind was exactly what he needed to lift his spirits before bed.

No, it was Italy who worried him. He obviously wasn't used to this and was already having trouble staying on his feet. Earlier, he had been letting out constant voices of discomfort, but now he had grown strangely quiet.

"Ita-cakes? You okay?"

"It's so cold. Prussia, I can't feel my hands anymore!"

"Try to put them in your pockets to warm them up."

"But it's still so cold! I want to go back to the lodge. I want back to Germany!"

"There's no point. We're already half-way to the village, and it's going to be easier to go down there than climb back up."

"But then we'll have to go all the way up to make it back!"

That was a fair point, Prussia knew. He mulled it over in his head and tried to decide if it would be weakness or self-preservation if they turned back now and returned to their boyfriends to admit defeat against the forces of nature.

"How about this? We call them when we reach the village and ask them to come and get us by car?" he suggested.

"Yeah! That sounds great!"

This wasn't weakness, Prussia decided. He could march down to the village and back up five times in a row if needed, but it totally wasn't fair of him to expect the same of Italy. So, this once he'd adapt and do what was the best for someone else. An awesome guy like him didn't always have to get his way.

They kept going. Italy's chatter grew more and more infrequent until he was saying nothing more. Prussia glanced at him and asked if he was fine, but there was no answer. That couldn't be good.

Prussia stopped and caught Italy's shoulders, forcing him to look at him. At once, the poor thing collapsed against him and buried his face into his chest.

"Hey? What's wrong?"

"It's cold..."

"Yeah, I know. But don't give up, okay? We're half-way there. Imagine how proud West is going to be when he finds out that you walked to the village all on your own!"

The only reply he got was a tired hug, so he gave Italy's back a few encouraging pats and then started leading him down the road. It crossed his mind that he should have been a little harder on him and kicked some energy into him, but he had never been able to exercise his rigorous training on Italy. He was just so cute that all stamina poured out of him whenever he saw his face.

"Come on, keep going. I'll buy you something hot at the inn when we make it there. Maybe we'll test the coffee before we make any for Romano and West? Huh, how about that?"

Italy murmured something, but Prussia didn't mind that he couldn't understand a word. As long as he was saying something, things should be fine. He'd just have to keep talking to him and not let him fall silent.

It would keep him alert as well. As much as he totally loved this challenge, he couldn't deny that his thoughts were getting similarly muddled as the feeling of cold was replaced by numbness. He wouldn't have minded some cuddling with Romano before the fireplace right now.

He wondered if Germany and Romano had already noticed that they were gone and if they had calmed down enough to care. Maybe they'd get angry all over again once they realised what they had done. In that case, they had better hurry up and get the damn coffee.

He was about to ask Italy how he was feeling, but at that exact moment his foot got caught in something under the snow. He lost his balance and fell on his face on the road, and a moment after that he was being crushed under Italy's weight as his feet gave in under him without his support.

"Ow," he groaned, and for a moment they stayed lying in the snow, listening to the howling of the wind. Or at least Prussia did. He didn't know if Italy was still conscious enough to do that.

Germany was going to kill him if something happened to Italy. He'd yell at him for being irresponsible again and dragging Italy away on a stupid adventure when the weather forecast had said that –

Oh, right. Now Prussia remembered. No wonder it was snowing so much. There was supposed to be that storm that night. Getting caught in that wouldn't kill a nation, but it would be unpleasant as hell. Prussia had enough experience with fingers, toes and ears getting frostbitten so badly that it felt like they were on fire, so he didn't need a reminder.

"The village can't be far away now. Let's go," he said and wriggled free from under Italy. There was no complaint from him when he pulled him up on his feet, and at first he thought that he had lost consciousness. But then saw his lips move and knew that he wasn't quite that far gone yet.

"That's right," he said. "You just say awake. I'll take care of the rest and carry you to safety on my back!"

At first he thought that it would be troublesome to get Italy on his back since he was being so unresponsive, but it turned out that the small nation was tougher than he had expected. He wrapped his arms over his chest all on his own and clung to him.

"Self-preservation is awesome," Prussia said with a tired chuckle and started following the road towards the village.

* * *

Germany woke up with a start and stared in surprise at the book in his lap. He hadn't realised he had fallen asleep. It hadn't been his intention; he had only wanted to spend a moment filling in a few puzzles in a sudoku book that Japan had given him for Christmas. Organizing numbers into lines and squares so that everything matched always had a wondrous calming effect on his nerves.

Maybe even more than he realised, he mused as he rubbed his eyes and put the book away. Or maybe he had needed some rest. Driving had left him exhausted.

He felt a sudden pang of guilt as he recalled why he was upstairs in his and Italy's bedroom and why he was alone. Those damn plates. It had been an accident. He shouldn't have got so upset over something so meaningless.

Now that he had slept a little, thinking back to his earlier behaviour made him want to shake his head. He should have been above letting his tiredness and emotions get the better of him. He was the one who was supposed to keep a clear head – especially considering the company he kept, he mused.

He should apologize to Italy. Maybe they could all talk about what they wanted from this vacation so that it wouldn't be ruined. He would ask if the others could promise that they'd be a little more careful about where they left their clothes and how messy they made the bathroom.

Germany pushed open the door and stepped into the hallway. He could see that all the lights downstairs were on, but he couldn't hear any voices. It was strange; it was impossible that the combined presence of Italy and Prussia could be this quiet.

"Hello?" he called out as he walked down the stairs and entered the living room.

The fire had almost died; only glowing embers remained. There was nobody in sight, and Germany couldn't see any signs that Italy and Prussia had even been there. No empty glasses on the floor, no crumbs or candy wrappers on the couch or on the blanket before the fire.

There wasn't anyone in the kitchen either. Germany stepped over the broken plates on the floor and wasn't surprised to see that nobody had finished doing the dishes, but that didn't bother him now. The lodge wasn't large, and there weren't too many places where two nations as loud and prone to disasters as Italy and Prussia could be hiding.

Germany hesitated only for a moment before knocking on the door to Prussia and Romano's bedroom. He was probably not a welcome guest, but he'd rather face all the insults the southern half of Italy could throw his way than let Italy think that he was still mad at him.

There was no answer, so he decided to risk his health and pushed the door open. To his surprise, he couldn't see Italy or Prussia in the room. There was only Romano, asleep on the bed with a frown on his face and a pillow clutched against his chest.

Germany did a quick review of the lodge's structure and came to the conclusion that there was nowhere that Italy and Prussia could be, unless they had locked themselves in the bathroom. While he supposed it was possible for them to do it by accident, he was sure Italy would have been screaming for help, and Prussia would have tried to kick the door down.

He cleared his throat.

"Romano?"

He didn't receive a reply. Apparently Romano was a heavy sleeper, much like his brother. Germany spent a moment contemplating whether the abuse he'd get if he shook his shoulder to wake him up would be worth it, but then he decided that this was one of those moments when desperate measures were needed.

"Hnng, leave me alone, bastard. I'm still mad at you," Romano muttered and tried to swat his hand away.

"No, it's me, Germany."

He watched how Romano's frown deepened before his eyes shot open. For a while, he looked at him in confusion, but then he finally seemed to realise what was going on.

"Fuck!"

The pillow came flying at Germany's face.

"The hell are you doing here? What makes you think you can touch me, bastard? Get out! You're polluting this room by being here!"

"I'm sorry, but I need to ask you one thing. Do you know where Italy and Prussia are?"

Romano kept glaring at him as he sat up on the bed and crossed his legs under him. "What do you mean, where they are?"

"I can't find them anywhere. There was... We didn't exactly fight, but –"

"What did you do to my brother?"

Romano didn't give Germany the chance to reply. He jumped off the bed and marched past him, stomping angrily down the stairs so that Germany could hear him even after he had reached the living room.

"Veneziano! Where the hell are you?"

"I already looked for them everywhere," Germany said as he joined Romano downstairs.

"And what the fuck happened here?" Romano asked and pointed at the broken plates on the floor in the kitchen. "Did you throw plates at Veneziano?"

"Of course not! I –"

"Shouldn't have expected anything better from a steroid potato like you! You're totally unstable and there's probably no space for any brains in you because all the stupid muscles are taking up all of it! Fuck you! No wonder that –"

"I didn't throw them at him! He dropped them because he tried to carry too many at once!" Germany didn't mean to raise his voice, but there were some things that got straight under his skin. Implying that he would ever knowingly hurt Italy was one of them, and he wasn't going to let anyone say that to him.

"T-then where the hell is he, huh?" Romano stuttered, swiftly retreating so that the dining table was between them. "And where's Prussia?"

"If they were still here somewhere, I'm sure our yelling would have lured them to us," Germany said.

"Outside, then," Romano concluded.

Germany realised only then that he hadn't thought to see if Italy and Prussia's coats were still there. Of course, since they had both tossed them who knew where when they had come inside, he wasn't sure he would have noticed their absence even if he had. But he did know where Prussia's shoes should have been because he had put them in the shoes closet himself.

One look was enough to confirm their suspicions. Their brothers had gone out.

Germany sighed. "I hope they haven't gone far. They have no business being outside in weather like that. Don't they remember what the forecast said?"

"What, you expect those two idiots to listen to anything that's not beaten into their heads? They never listen if it's not about food or some shit," Romano grumbled and crossed his arms on his chest as he took a seat on the couch in the living room.

Germany ignored Romano for now, feeling somewhat out of his element when having to be alone with him. He walked to the door and pushed it open, wincing at the harsh wind that hit him in the face.

"Italy! Prussia! Are you there? Come back inside!" he yelled, but he wasn't sure how far his voice would carry before being buried under the howling of the wind.

He waited a moment, but there was no answer. He supposed there was no use hoping that Italy and Prussia had simply decided to go and play in the snow for a while. He shook his head in frustration as he closed the door. The two of them had no doubt got so excited about some idea of theirs that they had entirely forgotten all common sense. Not that either of them had much of it in the first place.

Next, he tried calling them. Both attempts failed because they soon realised that Prussia and Italy had left their phones inside.

"I'm going to look for them," he announced. He made sure his car keys were in the pocket of his pants and grabbed his coat.

"Wait, I'm coming, too."

Germany gave Romano a somewhat surprised look. He hadn't expected him to ever willingly follow him anywhere, but he supposed that his worry over their brothers was stronger than his dislike for him.

As he waited for Romano to get ready, Germany tried to make a mental list of all the logical explanations to where their brothers could be. It was possible that they had decided to climb higher up the mountain. He could certainly imagine Prussia getting it into his head that he should prove he could do it, but there was very little that might motivate Italy into something so dangerous and useless.

It was therefore more than likely that they had taken the road down and were on their way to the village. Perhaps they wanted to buy something. He wouldn't put it past them to think that they could smooth things over if they came back with chocolate or something else equally silly.

"They probably went to town to buy some shit," Romano said.

"I agree. With the car, it should be easy to catch up with them."

"I hope they've got frostbites and that they hurt like hell. That should teach them."

Germany said nothing to that. The rational part of him knew that there wasn't really a reason to be worried. Italy and Prussia couldn't die, especially from just a snowstorm. The worst that could happen was that they'd find them in the snow the following morning, fingers black from the cold and skin peeling off, but all of that would heal.

It would also hurt. Germany felt his heart clench at the thought of Italy's tears and anything bad happening to him. He had promised him that he'd always protect him. Now he had done the opposite; he had driven him straight into danger himself.

They were driving slowly because the road was covered in snow and because they didn't want to miss their brothers in case they went past them. Every time they came across a large pile of snow, Germany stopped the car and Romano went out to give the snow a kick to see if there was anyone under it. Every time there wasn't, Germany didn't know whether to be relieved or not.

"I'm going to fucking kill them when we find them," Romano growled as he came back into the car after yet another failed attempt to find the missing nations.

"First we need to find them. They could be hurt and –"

"Shut up! They aren't hurt!"

"With this weather –"

"I said they aren't hurt! Goddammit, how often do I have to tell you that? Just keep driving, bastard!"

Germany didn't dare take his eyes off the road for longer than a moment to glance at Romano. He was staring right ahead with an angry frown on his face, but Germany could tell that he was worried. He wasn't sure exactly how he knew that this wasn't one of Romano's usual tantrums. Maybe it was the fact that he was actually talking to him or how hard he was clutching at the door handle.

"Hey! Watch it!"

"What –"

Germany had a split second to realise that the road was no longer where he had thought it was and that there was nothing but snow ahead of them. That wasn't enough for him to do anything but turn the wheel around in an attempt to change their course, but that didn't stop them from driving straight off the road and into the woods.

Thankfully, their slow speed saved them from any injuries. Germany turned to Romano to ask if he was alright, but he was silenced by the fury that he saw sparkling in his eyes.

"Were you trying to kills us, bastard? And what the fuck, why did you drive off the road? You're the one who said nobody but you can drive this car, and then you can't do it yourself, dammit!"

"It's impossible to see anything in this weather," Germany muttered, feeling like it was his pride that had got hurt the most.

"Yeah, right! That's just a lame excuse! At least do something useful now and get us back on the road!"

Germany tried to put the car on reverse, but they didn't budge.

"There's too much snow," he said. He got out to see if there was anything they could do to get the car back on the road.

After a while, he was joined by his grumpy companion.

"You're pushing it," Romano announced.

"I don't think I can. It's too steep."

"Why the hell do you have all those muscles for? Just so that you can get Veneziano to go all gaga over you and that he'll let you have his ass or what? Push the fucking car! "

"It would be a waste of time," Germany said, counting backwards to ten in his mind. No matter how tempting it was, he didn't want to start yelling at Romano. He had already driven Italy and Prussia away, and he didn't want to add one more person to the list. Even if it was one who hated him already.

"Then what?" Romano asked.

"We're going to have to walk. We're half-way to the village, so it shouldn't take long, even in this weather."

"You've got to be kidding me. I'm already freezing here!"

"You can stay in the car if you want. I'll leave you the keys so that you can keep the heating on."

"Oh, is that your plan? You're just going to dump me here and go after them alone so that you can be a hero and make me look like a coward? Fat chance, bastard! I'm coming with you whether you like it or not!"

"Fine, fine," Germany said and raised his palms as a peace offering. Maybe it was a good thing Romano was coming along. His ranting should catch Italy and Prussia's attention if they accidentally walked past them.

* * *

If Prussia hadn't been so out of breath, he would have let out a sigh of relief when they finally reached the village. As it was, he couldn't decide if his lungs were burning from the strain of carrying Italy down the mountain or frozen because of the cold air he had to breathe, but it didn't matter. It still hurt like hell.

"Here we go, Ita-cakes," he said and pushed open the door to the inn. Good thing the place was still open. He wasn't sure if he would have had the strength to knock on the door hard enough to create a decent ruckus.

The warmth that engulfed him as he stepped inside was almost too awesome to be true. He kicked the door shut behind them and helped Italy sit down at the nearest table. After that, he turned around to take a good look at their surroundings.

The inn was furnished in a traditional style that made Prussia think back to his best days. The tables and benches were darkened by age and covered in so many scratches that he was sure they were at least a few generations old. Black and white photos, newspaper clippings and hunting trophies decorated the walls. The only parts of the room that looked modern were the counter and the cash register.

"Oh, my goodness! Are you two alright?"

Prussia turned around to see that a middle-aged woman had entered the room upon hearing the door being opened. He flashed her a grin and took off his woollen hat, sending some snow on the floor. One glance down told him that they had brought in quite a lot of it and that it was now turning into a huge puddle.

"Yeah, we're fine. Sorry about the snow."

"He doesn't look fine to me," the woman said and pointed at Italy. "He looks like he's barely alive. We don't have a hospital here, but –"

"Nah, he's tougher than he looks. Just give him something hot to drink, and he'll be on his feet in no time."

The woman didn't look one bit convinced, but Prussia wasn't going to spend any time explaining the details of the situation to her. Germany liked to come to this village to relax, so he didn't want to destroy his safe haven by telling the locals that they were dealing with nations. Being the personification of Germany came with a lot of baggage, and not everyone was happy to know who he was.

"Trust me, okay? I know what I'm doing," he added. He moved to peel off Italy's coat and gave his cheeks a few gentle pats to get his attention.

"Hmm?" came a tired moan, and Prussia turned triumphantly towards the woman.

"See? What did I tell you? All he needs now is some tea or hot chocolate or something. He'll be fine!"

This seemed to change the woman's opinion somewhat, and she hurried to the kitchen to get them something to drink. While they waited, Prussia removed the rest of Italy's winter clothes and made sure his fingers, toes, ears and nose were alright and not about to fall off. He didn't think a bit of cold could damage a nation, but this was a Mediterranean nation he was dealing with.

The woman returned with a steaming mug of tea. She introduced herself as Martha as she handed it over to Prussia.

"See here, Ita-cakes? Wrap your fingers around it," he said and pushed the mug into Italy's hands.

"Are you sure he's going to be okay?" Martha asked, eyeing Italy with a worried frown.

"Yeah, look? He's holding the mug himself. He'll be good as new once he gets some of that inside him. And I could use some as well."

Prussia took off his coat and ran his fingers through his hair to get rid of the water. Feeling was returning to his toes, and he wiggled them to get rid of the burning sting that engulfed them. He glanced at Italy to make sure he was okay and was happy to see that he was already drinking the tea. Colour was climbing back onto his cheeks, and he began making quiet noises.

"You okay?"

"It's warm again."

"Yeah, that's because we're out of the storm."

Prussia sat down by Italy's side and wrapped his arm around his shoulders to pull him close. It tickled him pink that he got to play the protective guardian over the cute nation. The only thing that could have made it better was if it had been Romano in his place.

"Where are we?" Italy asked.

"At the inn in the village."

At that moment, Martha returned with some more tea that she gave to Prussia. She lifted her brows in surprise at Italy's vastly improved condition.

"You were right," she said. "I've never seen anyone come around so fast."

"That's because we're special and awesome."

Martha shot him a glare that wasn't at all amused. "This isn't a joking matter. You could have died. You made it here just in time before the storm got worse. If you had waited any longer, you might not have made it."

"Huh, I guess we aren't going back tonight," Prussia mused. He couldn't say he was looking forward to hiking back to the lodge even in normal conditions, but it definitely wasn't his idea of fun in this weather, especially if he had to carry Italy again. He could do it, of course; it was a piece of cake. He just didn't want to because he was on vacation.

"Definitely not. I'll get you rooms here," Martha said. "What were you doing out in that weather anyway?"

"We came to buy some coffee."

"What?"

"Yeah, we forgot it all home when we came here. We're renting that lodge up there, and a mountain vacation just isn't the same if you can't drink some nice, hot coffee by the fireplace, you know?"

"You're insane. But lunatics always have the best luck in the world. Since you two seem fine, I'll go and move some things into your rooms. You're lucky that the tourist group we were expecting decided to arrive a day late because of the storm or you'd have to sleep here in the hall," Martha said and left to climb upstairs.

Prussia laughed, but he grew quiet when he felt Italy tug at his arm and saw him looking at him with a worried frown on his face.

"Do we have to stay here? What about Germany and Romano? Won't they be worried? And I wanted to sleep in that big bed with Germany tonight!"

Okay, that was a good point. It was hours since they had left. Surely Romano and Germany had started to miss his awesomeness by now and had noticed that they were gone. And knowing them, they were both totally freaking out.

"No problem! We'll just call them to let them know that we're staying here for the night!" he said and dug a hand into his pocket. Huh, his phone wasn't there. It wasn't in the other pocket either, and then Prussia remembered that he had left it on the couch in the living room.

"Hey, do you have your phone?" he asked.

"Nope. I forgot it," Italy said.

"Damn, I guess we _are_ a little flighty. Maybe West kind of has a point sometimes."

Oh, well. There it was no use worrying about it now. They'd find a way to get back to the lodge the following day if the weather had improved. Germany and Romano would just have to manage one night without them. Heh, maybe they'd be so happy to see them the next day that they'd be really nice to them. He certainly knew what he wanted from Romano.

"We shouldn't have come here," Italy said with a sniffle. "Now we're stuck here and Germany and Romano are up there all alone! What if the weather doesn't get better? Our vacation will be ruined and we can't do any of the fun things that we planned!"

Yeah, when he put it like that, Prussia supposed that the situation sucked. He had really been looking forward to getting Romano relax a bit. He was no doubt ranting even more than usual right now, all because of him.

"I guess I shouldn't have forgotten that coffee," he muttered.

* * *

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Fuck!

Not much else was currently going on in Romano's mind, but he didn't know if it was because his brain was frozen or because of the sheer horror he was feeling since that fucking over-muscled potato was fucking carrying him.

He hadn't wanted it to come to this. He had done his best to keep following Germany, not because he really wanted to go anywhere with him but because the massive bastard was a great shield against the wind. But then his legs had given in under him, and he had collapsed into the snow. And then Germany had picked him up and hadn't cared about his yelling or struggling or the fact that he had kicked him in the head.

He wasn't bothering with any of that anymore. He needed his remaining strength for holding onto Germany's shoulders so that he wouldn't fall. Every second made him feel like he was going to vomit, but the shaking was from the cold. Probably. He couldn't imagine anything more horrible than being carried anywhere by Germany. At the same time, he was frightened of what might happen if the bastard decided to leave him out here.

Fuck, why weren't they at the village yet? And where the hell were their brothers? It was impossible to keep looking for them when the weather was this bad. Earlier, Germany had told him that their only option was to get to the village and come back when the storm was over. Romano knew it was true, but that hadn't stopped him from cussing Germany out with everything he had. The bastard was supposed to be always in control! He should have been able to fix things!

And – Hey! What the fuck was this? Why was he slipping down Germany's back?

"B-bastard!" he whined and tried to hold onto the broad shoulders, but he had little strength left and couldn't do anything to stop himself from falling to the snowy ground. He groaned at the pain in his butt and prepared to curse Germany to hell and back, but that was when he realised that the tall figure was no longer standing before him.

His eyes travelled down. It was difficult to make out in the dark, but he was pretty sure that lump on the ground was Germany.

"The hell?" he asked and crawled closer. He gave Germany a shove. When that didn't get the reaction he wanted, he punched him on the shoulder.

"I'm sorry," Germany said and began to climb back on his feet. He didn't quite make it before he let out a hiss and sunk back on his knees.

"What the hell happened?"

"I slipped. I think I twisted my ankle."

"Goddammit, don't tell me one ankle is enough to slow you down!"

"I'll be fine. I just don't think I can carry you anymore."

"Yeah, like I need you to fucking carry me! I can walk! The only reason I let you do that is so that you'd have something to do and wouldn't feel like a total loser because it's your fault that the two idiots are out here in this weather!"

The only reply from Germany was silence. He attempted to rise again, and this time he made it up, even if he couldn't place his full weight on his right foot. He took one step to test it, nearly falling down again.

"You're a total waste of space," Romano said. "First you drive our brothers out here, then you can't find them, and then you get injured and become dead weight. Fucking great."

"Then go on without me!" Germany snarled through teeth that he was gritting so hard that Romano was sure he could hear it over the howling of the wind. "You've done nothing but complain, and right now I don't have the patience to listen to it! The village isn't far away. You shouldn't have much trouble reaching it on your own."

Romano considered it. He supposed he could stagger down the rest of the way and knock on the first door that he found. Someone would give him hot soup or tea, and he'd send them to pick up Germany if he was feeling generous. Spending some time in the snow wouldn't do anything to him. He was a nation, and a pretty strong one at that.

That was the sensible thing to do, the only thing that he _wanted_ to do. At the same time, he couldn't help but imagine what Germany would do if their roles were reversed. Hell, the bastard had already been carrying him. Part of Romano was sure that it was only so that he could look like a hero in Veneziano's eyes and get some Italian ass, but another part of him couldn't help but feel a little bit grateful.

"Yeah, right!" he snapped. "Do you think I'm stupid? Like I'm letting you stay behind like some selfless martyr so that Veneziano will fawn all over you and let you do whatever you want with him! He told me what kind of sick stuff you like! No way am I letting my brother become your victim!"

"What –" Germany started, but Romano wasn't about to let him finish.

"Shut up and get going! You're leaning on me whether you like it or not, dammit!"

Germany stared at him in shock like he had suddenly confessed his love to him – and, oh, God, was that a repulsive thought or what – so Romano moved to grab his arm and wriggled under it. Fucking hell, why was the bastard so stupidly tall and heavy?

"Move, or I'm leaving you behind. I'm freezing my ass off here, and it's all your fault," he grumbled. Dammit, when had he become such a bleeding heart? Ditching Germany here and knowing he was suffering should have been the fulfilment of his dreams. He had spent so many years wishing that he'd disappear from his and Veneziano's lives. Germany totally deserved to get the worst kind of frostbites and spend the night alone in the storm.

But it was the image of Veneziano's tear-stained face that motivated him into this. He may have hated Germany (thought not as much as before, he had to grudgingly admit), but he couldn't bring himself to be that cruel to his brother. All he wanted now was to find Veneziano and Prussia and see that they were fine. If he could have that, maybe he'd be able to stomach watching Veneziano cling to his pet potato and make kissy faces at him.

And Prussia had better appreciate that he was dragging his brother's ass to safety in this goddamn weather, too. The idiot would have to give him a massage and feed him and be ready to do anything he wanted for the next two months! But first Romano would yell at him for being so stupid and making him worried and – maybe – hug him. Then he'd demand to get his massage.

He growled in frustration and closed his eyes when the wind blew more snow against them. Fuck, he couldn't remember the last time he had felt this cold. His fingers and toes felt like they had been chopped off and his nose was like it was in the fucking process of someone cutting it off with a frozen blade.

"This is... all your fault... bastard," he muttered through gritted teeth. His back hurt from supporting the brainless lump of muscle, and he was sure his feet would give in again if he had to take even more step further.

Romano didn't know how much longer it took before they made it to the village or how the hell they made it in the first place, but suddenly they found themselves standing before the inn where they had stopped briefly on their way to the lodge. He no longer knew if he was even fully conscious, if he was ever going to feel warm again or if he even cared. His eyes were so heavy, and he felt his resolve crumble as darkness began to engulf him. He was faintly sure he could hear a pounding sound before he gave up and let himself fall, but it might have just been just his own heartbeat.

* * *

"Romano? Romano!"

"Nngggh..."

Fuck, that groan that just left his mouth didn't sound anything like, "Goddammit, shut up and let me sleep, idiot!" He tried to give a weak punch to whoever was bothering him, but he found that he couldn't move his arms. His muddled brain couldn't quite understand where he was or what had happened to him, so he began to panic and struggle against whatever was holding him down.

"Hey, calm down!"

Hands came to push him back down, and he let out a string of muffled profanities until he finally recognised the voice that was talking to him. He rarely liked to be woken up by that voice, but that was because he didn't like to be woken up, period. This time was no exception, and he opened his eyes so that he could glare hatefully at the pale face that was entirely too close to his.

"It's just me," Prussia said and flashed him his usual grin.

"Fuck..."

"Hey, you could look a little happier to see me after I dragged your ass in here when you collapsed at the door!"

Romano blinked and tried to focus his thoughts. He became aware of the fact that he could actually feel his fingers now and that the reason he couldn't move his arms was that someone had wrapped him into a dozen blankets so that he looked like a cocoon. Slowly, he began to remember just what had happened that night.

"Where's Veneziano?" he asked.

"He ran downstairs to get you another hot water bottle. You were unconscious for so long that he kind of began to panic."

Romano glanced at the room they were in, but he didn't recognise it. The curtains weren't the same colour as in their room at the lodge, and he was pretty sure there hadn't been a closet like that either.

"Where are we?"

"At the inn, duh! Martha is totally awesome and let us stay for the night."

Romano took a better look at Prussia and realised that he was fine. No, he was more than fine. There was absolutely nothing wrong with him.

"How the hell did you and Veneziano get here?" he asked. And the answer had better be damn good.

Prussia chuckled and turned his eyes away sheepishly. "We kind of decided that the atmosphere at the lodge sucked, so we decided to fix it by coming here to buy some coffee. But we forgot about the snowstorm and couldn't come back. That's all."

"That's all?" Romano repeated. "You just fucking left and didn't tell us anything! What the hell were you thinking? We got stuck in the snow because if you two idiots!"

"Well, why did you come after us?"

"Because we were fucking worried!"

Prussia leaned closer to press his nose against his. "Aww, you were worried about me? No need to! Because I'm –"

"Don't say it or you're sleeping on the floor!" Romano struggled against the blankets until both of his arms were free and shoved Prussia away. "And where the hell did these come from anyway?"

"I wrapped you up in them because you looked like you were frozen solid. You're really cute all bundled up, like a piece of candy. Or a little tomato baby. But I guess you're getting warm again because your face is turning really red and – ack, hey! Don't hit me!"

"The hell is your problem? At least apologize for the stupid stunt you pulled!"

Prussia tilted his head to the side and gave him a long look. "Were you seriously that worried about me?"

"Of course not! You can roll down the mountain and get impaled on a fucking rock for all I care, but keep Veneziano out of it! He shouldn't have to spend the night climbing down a mountain in a snowstorm."

"Aww, you were!"

"Fuck you."

Romano turned to glare away and puffed his cheeks, suddenly tempted to crawl back into the nest of blankets and go to sleep again. However, he was beginning to feel uncomfortably hot, as if the incident outside had never happened. Or maybe he was coming down with a fever. If yes, that idiot had better tote on him like hell.

Prussia hopped on the bed to lie by his side. "You should know you don't have to worry about me."

"And you should know better than get into trouble all the time! But hell, it's not like a loser like you can think, so I have no idea why I even bother bringing it up." In truth, he knew perfectly well why he kept doing it. Because as irritating as Prussia could get, he was still his boyfriend and damn important to him, so he didn't like seeing him break his nose or fall down the stairs in drunken stupor. Even if he deserved all that because he was an _idiot._

"Hey, it all ended well. Nobody's even hurt, except West, but he can deal with it. Man, I can't believe that you actually dragged him all the way here. I thought you hated him," Prussia said.

"I do," Romano grumbled. "I just thought it would be easier to bring his ass over here than watch you and Veneziano cry because I left him."

Prussia laughed. "Pfft, like I'd cry! But thanks for looking after my kid brother. That was pretty awesome."

Romano chose not to reply. He buried his face into the blankets and basked in the feeling of knowing that he had done something that Prussia thought was great. He'd never admit it to anyone, but hearing that arrogant ass say something nice about him never failed to make him flustered.

"Anyway, how are you feeling? Are you okay?" Prussia asked.

"I'm tired and hungry and my back hurts from dragging your oversized brother around. So, give me a massage, bastard."

Prussia reached out to poke him on the cheek. "On one condition."

"What's that?"

"You'll give me one after it. I carried your brother here."

"Veneziano isn't heavy!"

"But I gave him a piggy-back ride! That means double points!"

"I'll consider it if the massage you give me is really good. But only then."

"I give the best back rubs! You should know that!" With that, Prussia rolled on top of him so that he was sitting on his thighs and looking down at him. "And I'm going to prove it."

"Not like this. I'm lying on my back, idiot."

A mischievous glint entered Prussia's eyes. "I was thinking we should make sure you're properly warmed up before I start. It can't be good to work on cold muscles."

"And what's that –"

But then Prussia leaned closer and kissed him, and Romano knew exactly what he had in mind. He was set on remaining angry and not giving the bastard exactly what he wanted, but fuck it, that felt too good and made him warmer than any blankets or hot water bottles ever could have.

Damn that bastard, always knowing which buttons to push.

* * *

"Are you sure you have enough pillows? I could go and get some more if –"

"I'm fine," Germany said, hoping to cut Italy off before he could erupt in yet another string of worried words. "It's just my ankle, and it's not that bad. At the rate we heal, I'll be fine tomorrow."

"But it's all my fault that it happened!"

"I'd rather blame Prussia. Only he can think walking to buy coffee in a snowstorm is easy or a good idea."

"Please don't be angry at him! He just wanted to make you happy because you were being so grumpy!"

Germany sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. On some level, Italy was right. Besides, everything had ended well, and he'd rather enjoy the rest of the vacation than waste another minute of it scolding anyone.

"Do you have a headache, Germany? Is it because of me? Are you still thinking about the plates? I'm sorry I didn't clean that up before we left and –"

"I'm not angry at you. I never was. I was just tired and..." Germany drifted off and stared at Italy who was standing by the side of their bed, fidgeting with his fingers and frowning in worry. "Italy?"

"Yes?"

"Get to bed. The floor is cold, and you aren't wearing any socks. I don't want you to freeze. Again."

Italy didn't need to be told twice. He jumped into the bed and wormed his way under the blankets before snuggling against Germany until he was practically lying on his chest. Germany couldn't see his face, but he could feel Italy's smile on his skin as he leaned against him.

"I'm so happy you aren't mad!"

"I'm sorry I made such a fuss about the plates."

"No, no, I'm sorry I broke them even though I knew you wouldn't like it!"

"Let's just forget about them for now, alright?" Really, as much as it bothered Germany that there was a mess waiting to be cleaned in the lodge, it was hard to focus his thoughts on that when there was a very clingy and very naked Italy curled up by his side.

"Okay," Italy agreed.

Germany moved his hand so that it was resting on Italy's shoulder and slowly caressing his neck. Italy let out a happy noise and leaned into the touch, turning around so that he was facing him. He lifted himself on his knees so that he could reach to kiss him, but just before their lips met, Italy suddenly pulled away.

"Oh, no! I forgot to make sure that your ankle has enough pillows!"

"Italy, I'm fine," Germany said in disappointment, but that didn't stop Italy from throwing the blankets off them so that he had access to the injured foot.

"You can never be too careful, and I want to make sure it's completely fine tomorrow! Don't worry, Germany. I'll take care of your ankle."

Germany rolled his eyes but decided that it was easier to let Italy do what he wanted. In recent years, that had become his main method of dealing with him anyway.

He winced when Italy lifted his ankle to place another pillow under it and then kept running his fingers all over it.

"It's never going to heal if you keep poking at it," he pointed out.

"Oops, sorry." Italy removed his hands, but they were soon replaced by something softer.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm kissing it to make it better! Mwah! There. Now it's going to be as good as new."

"Thank you. Now please come back over here and pull the blankets over us again or we're both going to catch a cold."

Italy did as he was told and curled up against him once more. They resumed what they had been doing, and this time there was nothing to interrupt the touches under the blankets.


End file.
